


Five Lives for One World

by StormDriver



Series: Warriors of the First [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Gen, Role Quest Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDriver/pseuds/StormDriver
Summary: The First is damned to be swallowed by the light. There's only one way to possibly save their world. Though the reality of their situation is not clear, the Warriors of Light may realize that they still have a lot left to learn. And a lot left to fight for.Includes minor spoilers for Shadowbringers, including the tank, healer, physical DPS, magical DPS, and nods towards the final role quest.
Series: Warriors of the First [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723276
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Five Lives for One World

**Author's Note:**

> This is... messy. And it's not pleasant. This isn't meant to be a light or happy read, but rather a fill-in story. One of the things that I've always wanted to explore since Shadowbringers released was more about the Warriors of Light of the First. What exactly happened to them and how they got to the Source. How they worked around in the Source before we saw them in the MSQ cutscenes. I doubt we'll ever know. And if we are told, I doubt this is how it would go. But after 5.2 dropped, I wanted to delve into it more than ever before. ESPECIALLY because I did the final role quest.
> 
> One last spoiler warning for those if you didn't catch it, this DOES have spoilers, though subtle, for the other role quest stories and most of all the FINAL role quest, unlocked after doing the previous four. If you don't care, read on. If you do, PLEASE go level up your other classes, it is SO worth it to do it on your own. 
> 
> There is no shipping in this work. But please interpret the relationships at hand in any way you would like to <3

With each passing day, the sun seemed to grow brighter. Even as the world’s woes had seemingly vanished, it was only a prelude to the stark reality to come. There was so little that anyone could say to help ease the fate of this world. So very little that even its vaunted heroes could do to avert the calamity. They were damned. And it was at the hands of the very people who wanted to protect their cruel world. 

The axeman turned his eyes up to the sky. Clouds drifted over, slowly blotting out the once-blue hues of the day. Normally it would be dim with the overcast, especially on the shores of Kholusia. But the saturation hiding in the veil made the sky almost as bright as the blinding sun. The overflowing aether that drifted across the wind made it all the more difficult to breathe. Even at night, it was difficult to find proper darkness to sleep under.

“Oi! Ardbert!”

The hume pulled away from the sky and looked back towards his friends. Each of them standing about the hillside, staring at their leader. A dwarf coated in a white robe and a golden-crested staff on her back. A mystel wearing extravagant hues of cloth and a harp-bow at her ready. An elf whose face was almost entirely hidden by dark robes. A galdjent bearing pristine armor and a golden crown on his head.

_This is… really the last day._

Branden was the one who’d called his name. “You’re not going to leave us to do all the digging, are you?” Though scolding in nature, there was a playful tone to his words.

Ardbert stared at his friend, his eyes empty. He pondered what had been said before bearing a small grin and muttering, “I’m the one that that needs to do the bloody job. The least you can do is make my part of it easier.” He paced towards his friends, letting the shovel he’d been holding drag in the dirt.

“You’re the one who offered to do it,” Nyelbert said.

“Aye…” The warrior ran his free hand over the back of his head and ruffled the messy hair. His smile was out of comfort, but it was an empty gesture. No amount of grinning and bearing could prepare for what was to come.

The dwarven girl cupped her hands over her chest and looked up to her comrade. “Are you… Are you certain you want to do this, Ardbert?”

Renda-Rae crossed her arms over her chest. Her yellow-ish eyes filled with some form of sorrow. Or perhaps it was only sympathy. “If I’ve really been traveling with the same people all these years, then I can say for certain that we’re all capable of-”

“No,” Ardbert shook his head. “You’ve all done more than enough.” His stare set on the ground at their feet.

Lamitt kept silent. Her hand drifted toward her bag. Toward the emblem of her role. Her fingers wrapped over the orange crystal that she’d kept with her ever since that day in Rak’tika.

Nyelbert stared at the purple crystal in his own palm. That which he’d gained in return for losing his dear friend.

Branden’s hand tightened over the blue crystal as the memories of Sauldia’s death came pouring back. 

Renda-Rae stared at the emerald crystal, doing what she could to ignore the screams of her friends in her memories.

“What are these really supposed to mean for us…?” Ardbert stared at the red crystal in his palm. “How do these make us… heroes?”

“Who knows if they really do?” Lamitt sighed. “Maybe we’re not as special as we thought.”

Renda-Rae smirked and snickered. “We’re the bloody demons that threw our world into this hellscape. Of course we’re not heroes.”

“It wasn’t _your_ hands that brought on the Flood.” 

They all looked up to the axeman again. His face plastered with regret. A hint of anger. His hands were tightening as he dropped the shovel to the ground. 

“I’m the one that started this mess,” he lamented. “I’ll make sure to right it.”

“You’re not alone in this, Ardbert. We’re all going together,” Braden stepped forward and clapped his shoulder with a hand.

“It was you who told me that we’ve got to stick together, as comrades,” Renda-Rae smiled in earnest. “We’re going to the Source together. Don’t try to shoulder all the blame.”

“And if we manage to bring about the Rejoining, then we’ll keep the stories alive. We’ll live for those we had to leave behind,” Nyelbert offered his own words of comfort.

Ardbert kept staring at the ground. At the site of their graves that they’d spent the day digging.

Lamitt sighed and her shoulders drooped. “And if you think yourself the only one responsible, need I remind you how we all became Warriors of Light?”

That sparked something in him. A hint of anger. No, they were not entirely responsible. There was someone who’d led them on this course. 

“Right…”

They kept plowing through the ground and finding the proper depth to be left behind. Ardbert had chosen a remote location somewhere in Kholusia for the burial. Somewhere that others would not easily stumble on their bodies. Save for few, no one would know where they’d died. Not that it would matter. A Rejoining would ensure no one would remain in this hellish world. 

Five different holes in the ground. Each at least six fulms deep. The skies were growing brighter. The aether was getting more difficult to breathe. 

They’d spent the entire day digging away at the earth. Ever since they’d woken up, they knew this was coming. Ever since they’d decided on a place to die, they knew this was coming. Ever since the Ascian told them this was the only way, they knew their deaths were coming. 

It was quiet at first, after Ardbert announced he’d finished his work. The five heroes stood in a small huddle, glancing about at the land around them. At each other and at the glaring skies. Each wondering how it could have possibly come to this. And wondering what waited for them on the other side.

But he didn’t want to spend the day standing around and waiting for the inevitable. Ardbert sighed and closed his eyes. “This is it. There’s no taking this back. So does anyone need to pay any visits to friends or family?”

“My family hates me, so that’s a no,” Lamitt tried to jest.

“...I’ve paid my respects to my friends. I’m ready,” Renda-Rae nodded.

“There’s no one to say goodbye to…” Branden remained sullen and spoke no more.

“No,” Nyelbert’s reply was blunt.

Ardbert glanced at each of them. Each wearing the same expression. Some form of sorrow. Of twisted anger and regret. But a glint of determination in each of them. They cannot─they will not falter.

He took a deep breath. Then slowly let it out. “Alright.”

With great hesitation and hands shaking, Ardbert reached for the axe on his back. The cold metal scraping across his armor as he took the weapon in hand. His friends watched silently. 

He looked down at the axe. The metal reflected the skies above. It was covered in scratches, yet polished clean to the best of his ability. Why had he done that again, knowing what was soon to come?

“Ardbert.”

He looked up again. His gaze met Renda-Rae’s. 

She smiled and spoke in a chipper tone, “Thank you for coming to aid me that day, in Rak’tika… If you fancy the drink in Eorzea, remind me to buy you one.” 

He stared at the mystel. Then ducked his head and felt a small smile come on. “You’re telling me this now…?” 

Renda-Rae shrugged and kept beaming.

Ardbert let out a sigh and turned back up. Nyelbert was staring at him. The only visible eye unblinking. 

“I’m…” Ardbert tried to find the words. “I’m sorry we could never find a way to save your friend. I can’t imagine how much they meant to you.”

Nyelbert remained silent, his expression hidden by the robes he wore. But his soft-spoken voice came through, “I’ll never forget him, nor will he ever be replaced. But over the years, I’ve found friends of equal measure in his stead. And for that, I am ever grateful.” 

Ardbert stared at the elf. For as little as he’d ever been able to read for Nyelbert, those words kept echoing in his head. He was truly grateful for the adventure they’d been on. For the friends that he had made.

“I, uh…” Branden mumbled. “I’m sorry that you’re being left with the bloody work this time around.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. 

The hume stared up at the knight. Then smiled softly. “Consider it payment for bearing your blade in ‘Gruenes Licht’, or however the hells you’re supposed to say it.”

Branden crossed his arms, a small scowl on his face. “You almost said it right.”

“Did I now?” Ardbert almost laughed. It was a weak jest, but what little amusement he could pull, he managed. “In any case… I’m doing this so that none of you have to. I’m doing it out of…” He couldn’t bring himself to say whatever it was.

“What, ‘love’?” Lamitt prodded. “As if we needed to be told that much. I swear, you think yourself some sort of proud and stalwart leader.” She was grinning playfully. “We’ve all seen you when you’re drunk, Ardbert. You’re too soft.”

Her relentless teasing ever present, even as they were about to die. Ardbert stared down at his long-time friend, brows furrowed and embarrassment plastered over his face. “Lamitt...!”

“Ah, she’s right,” Renda-Rae snickered. “I’ve seen a lot of fools in my day, but watching a drunk hume try to wrestle with a galdjent was quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“I swear, I wouldn’t know my friends from foes some days…” He sighed and his posture loosened. The axe in his hands was growing heavier.

Lamitt kept beaming. “But if there’s anything good that comes out of this, it’s knowing that I’ll keep adventuring with you once we make it to the other side.”

His embarrassment dimmed and he was able to smile again. “I’m thankful you didn’t go back to Tomra, in honesty. I don’t know what we’d be doing without you.”

“You’d be fumbling about and getting your arse handed to you by hobgoblins again. Or worse, you’d be forced to tend to your own wounds.”

Each of them laughed, remembering how often they tend to get pelted. How often Lamitt would scold them afterwards for barely trying to dodge. How much Ardbert would fail to explain why he didn't and the dwarf would beat him on the head with her cane.

“In fact, you might as well do me in first… Healing instincts may kick in and I could screw this all up.”

The laughter died almost immediately. For a moment, they’d all forgotten what they’d come out here to do.

“Right…” The words hung in the air. Each breath in felt a little more painful. Each thought passing his mind was another dagger in his chest. Every doubt that this would work kept finding their way back to his lips, almost spilling out. But he kept his mouth shut.

Ardbert’s grip on the axe tightened again. But it did not stop shivering in his palms. 

Lamitt stared up at her friend. The man who she’d known since she was first beginning her adventure to save her sister, her family. Someone she’d undoubtedly place her trust in, time and time again, to reliably protect her and she would protect him. Yet somehow, some part of her knew that this feeling was entirely one-sided.

“Just get it on with, Ardbert.” 

He winced and forced himself to look at Lamitt again. And he was met only with her smile.

“Don’t feel bad. We’ll see each other again.”

His body was shaking. But he didn’t keel over. He did not start crying. Instead, Ardbert took a deep breath in. With careful precision, he lifted the axe over his right shoulder, the blade behind his head. He couldn’t stop staring at Lamitt.

Such a kind expression to be wearing as she was about to meet her end. 

_No going back… No going back._

One small whimper escaped his throat. And he swung the axe. 

The blade collided with the small body of the dwarf and dragged directly across her skin, cutting deep and leaving lasting damage. Lamitt staggered back at the impact and her eyes flew open. A choking sound escaped her lips, but she kept it in. She kept trying to smile. 

Blood dripped down her robes and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She was still smiling. And she fell. Lamitt fell backwards and her body fell into the grave. 

The sickening sound as her corpse slammed against the rocks at the bottom. The others had all averted their eyes from the sight. The sun seemed to grow brighter.

An awful sound as someone started coughing. Ardbert let the axe dangle in his right hand and cupped his mouth with his left. His face twitched and eyes clenched shut. He started coughing more. “D-damn it-” He retched and his shoulders shook. He couldn’t even look up. Blood dripped off the axehead. 

Renda-Rae stepped forward and reached for his shoulder. “Ardbert…” She searched for the words to speak. “You… you don’t have to do this.”

“I’m sure we could find another way to do it.” Branden spoke up. “Or we could-”

“NO,” the warrior wiped at his face, trying not to be sick. He forced himself to look at the others. “I have to do this.” A twisted look of agony set on his face.

Nyelbert remained silent. But his glances between Renda-Rae and Branden said everything for him. There was another way. They’d discussed using poison a few days ago. Ardbert said he was against the idea. When asked why, he never gave a direct answer.

The man took a shaky breath. But he grabbed the axe again and lifted it back up. A red trail followed him as he walked towards the next hero.

Renda-Rae stared up as he approached. He wasn’t looking at her face at all. He was staring at the ground. A small frown set on his lips. She couldn’t read his expression. But she swore she could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

Her brows furrowed and she offered a sly smile. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

Ardbert still didn’t look up. His hands were shaking. 

“I’m not sure what’s waiting for us in the Source. But I’m happy that we’ll get to see it together,” the mystel mumbled. She stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder. “And we _are_ seeing it together. This isn’t goodbye.”

He was quiet. But slowly, Ardbert lifted his head. Blue eyes misty and brows furrowed. An expression of utter pain.

“Of course,” he mumbled.

Renda-Rae stepped back. Her heels at the edge of the grave.

And with only a moment’s less hesitation, Ardbert swung again. 

A different place to strike, one he had hoped wouldn’t be nearly as painful. The blade cut straight across her abdomen. A small shriek escaped her throat before she silenced herself and grit her teeth together. Her hands grabbed at the wound for a moment. But the pool of blood falling from her body would not be easily cleansed. And her survival instincts died immediately. 

She fell backwards. Her eyes shifting from Ardbert’s face towards the bright skies ahead. And she tried to smile as blood slipped from the corners of her mouth.

The body banged against the bottom of the grave. Branden and Nyelbert hadn’t looked away this time. But both had a difficult time keeping their eyes on the sight. Especially as Ardbert started to writhe.

It started with small shakes, but eventually he started retching again. The bloody axehead was plunged into the dirt and he leaned his body against it, hugging his body and trying to stop the repulsive behavior.

“Godsdamn-” He couldn’t even finish the words without choking on his own words. His legs shook trying to keep him standing. He gasped for air and kept spitting. “To hells with-'' More choking and sputtering. Sweat dripped off his pale skin.

It was too much just to watch. Branden stepped forward and grabbed Ardbert’s shoulder, shaking him. He leaned down and tried to look Ardbert in the eye. “We can… We’ll do it ourselves, Ardbert. We’ll-”

Ardbert did not speak. He wiped at his mouth again and stood up. He turned away and towards the mage. Toward Nyelbert. Branden’s hand fell away and all he could do was watch his friend’s suffering.

The warrior was quiet as he approached. His body shivering and cold stare refusing to meet Nyelbert’s. His breathing heavy and all too evident of the trauma. The axehead was plastered red with the blood of his friends. 

Neither spoke. Neither could think of the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say? Was this even the right thing to do?

So much less hesitance this time. If he did it quickly, there wouldn’t be time for regret. If he could just aim right, they’d die immediately and wouldn't suffer the wound’s pain for too long. Then he could just get on with killing himself. Make this go fast. Make it quick. They’re waiting for you on the other side.

Ardbert was quick to strike this time. Hardly more than a second was spent lifting the axe blade above his head. Nyelbert’s tall stature made it more difficult to land the blow. He needed to start high. 

The weapon came swinging over the elf’s shoulder and slid right down his chest. Blood shot through the dark fabrics and hung in the air. The cry of despair that Ardbert expected to hear wasn’t there. Time seemed to slow. And he forced himself to look at his victim of a friend.

Nyelbert was staring at the sky. His only visible eye wide and filled with wonder. And Ardbert heard him whisper:

“Forgive me… Taynor.”

The mage fell. His body collided with the grave’s floor. The staff on his back cracked with the impact. And he stopped moving.

Silence. Utter silence filled the void. The crimson liquid drew lines in the ground above the corpses. Night was falling, yet the sky was still bright. 

The axe slipped out of his hand and banged against the floor. His knees buckled and hands grappled for what was no longer there. Body convulsed as he fell down and a blood-curdling scream escaped his throat.

Branden rushed forward and fell to his knees with Ardbert. The hume’s fingers ran through the dirt and grabbed at the ground. He kept rasping and crying through the breaths he needed to take. His heart hammering away and body burning up beneath the layers of his armor. He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Ardbert couldn’t stop crying.

Branden clapped a hand over his back and shook his friend. The galdjent grabbed his shoulders and leaned his head down. “Ardbert, I’ll take care of the rest! Just let me-”

“NO!” He screamed. 

Branden pulled away immediately. He’d heard Ardbert yell, be it with anger or sorrow, in the past. Be it in battle or while he was drunk. But he’d never heard him scream with so much pain. Not even his worst wounds forced his voice to contort in such a way.

“I HAVE to do this!” He rasped out. “You’ve all bloodied your hands enough, let ME do something for once!” 

He didn’t really believe that, did he?

“I was the last to do my work…” His arms shook, but he dare not move.

Ardbert was as much a hero as the rest of them.

“I’m the one who brought the Shadowkeeper low…”

It didn’t matter how or when he got his crystal.

“I’m the one that brought Norvrandt to its knees.”

Ardbert was a Warrior of Light.

“And I’M the one that needs to be the villain!”

His right hand grabbed the handle of the axe. He struggled to his feet and coughed again. The tip of the axe rested in the dirt as Ardbert tried to get back up. He grabbed at his chest and kept heaving. 

Branden stood up with him, holding both his hands out to try and keep his friend steady. 

There was no dissuading him. Ardbert’s heart was set in stone. He wouldn’t let anyone else bear this burden. It was his sin. And his alone.

The galdjent closed his eyes. “I’ll only ask one thing, then.”

Ardbert hastily stood up, still grabbing at his stomach and trying to stop his body from being sick. He did not meet Branden’s gaze. He did not speak, or act.

“Don’t make yourself suffer too much… Let it be quick. No one should die in pain.”

He kept shivering. Still trying to breathe. Trying to keep himself together. There was still hope. _There was always hope,_ he had to tell himself. _There is always hope._

“Th…” he mumbled. “Thank you… Branden.” 

He rose the heavy axe high. And with a heavier heart, he brought the blade bearing down on his dear friend.

The axe drove straight through his shoulder and out across his heart. Branden grabbed at the wound immediately and tried to keep any cries of pain buried. Especially as he looked at Ardbert’s horror-stricken face. For as much as he wanted the pain to stop, he couldn’t help but pity his friend who’d caused it.

Ardbert couldn’t move. He was frozen, staring wide-eyed at the wound. He couldn’t move his axe. He couldn’t make this go away. 

Branden sputtered and gasped. But he was already fading. He managed one last look at Ardbert before he fell. 

The heavy body of the galdjent left an echo in the air as it slammed into the grave. The air fell silent. The wind had thinned out. Shimmering light overhead slowly growing louder.

Panicked breathing that started slow before becoming too loud to ignore. He dropped the axe again and grabbed at his head, gloved fingers running through his messy hair. The blood coating his axe and armor slowly dried on. And Ardbert kept panting. 

He blinked several times, eyes narrowed and trying to find something to ground him. Anything to keep his sanity in check. There was no one left in this world that he could rely on for that comfort. No one could give the sinner what he’d needed to hear. No one would care for him anymore. He was alone with his mistakes. Ardbert was alone. 

“...What the hell happened here?”

He jerked his head up and whipped around towards the source of the voice. Someone tall and draped in white clothes, akin to an adventurer’s. Her silver hair tied back in a short braid over her right shoulder. Pointed ears and tall stature telling of an elf. And one that Ardbert recognized.

He stared at Cylva with a sickened look, still trying to keep his composure.

She glared at him and took several strides forward. “Ardbert, what the hell did you do?!”

He stood up straight and turned an angry glare towards her. “We’re fixing everything.”

She stared down at him and grabbed his shoulder, leaning in close to his face. “Did you listen to the Ascians?!”

“Why wouldn’t we? Isn’t that what you did?” He practically spat in her face. Not a hint of remorse in his voice.

Cylva scowled. “What I did was no example to follow, you idiot, you KNOW that!”

Ardbert shoved her arm away. “Then why not try to stop us?! Why didn’t you follow us out here?! If you’re really our comrade, then why did-?!”

Her hands grabbed one of the straps over his chestplate and she yanked him forward. Ardbert stumbled and was almost suspended in the air by her grip. In fact, she was leaning down to be near eye level with him.

“I screwed up, Ardbert! I already said as much!” she yelled. “But godsdamnit, I won’t let you make the same mistake that I did!”

“We already did,” he mumbled, icy blue eyes looking up at hers. “Or have you not bothered to look around?”

Cylva winced and she glanced about. At the graves around them. At the blood covering the dirt and soaking into the soil. At the stains and patches over his pale skin. The cold look in his eyes. The senseless tone in his voice.

“You…” She kept looking around, trying to find her sense to believe it. Then pulled him back up and practically screamed in his face, “You KILLED them?!” 

“By their pardon. But sure, if you’d like to tell Norvrandt that I killed the Warriors of Light, go ahead.” His voice void of any feeling. Like he’d lost every little bit of care left in his body.

“What’s your plan…?”

“We’re going to the Source… We’ll force the Rejoining.”

“But that’s what the Ascians want-!”

Ardbert grabbed her wrist and forced her to let go. She dropped him back on his feet and stumbled away.

“We don’t have a choice!” he yelled back. “The First won’t survive the Flood! Everyone will be forced to suffer under the Light’s embrace unless we force the Rejoining!”

“How is that any better?!”

“How did YOU try to save the Thirteenth, Cylva?!”

The elf flinched and took a step back. 

“Either the First suffers the same stasis as the Void… Or it is Rejoined with the Source. At least with the latter… they’ll have a chance to survive.” 

“Ardbert… You… you can’t.”

“Why not?” The anger came biting back. 

“Norvrandt can survive… I know it can. After all my time here, I know that the people here have the will to keep moving forward, despite all odds.”

His question was blunt and heartless. “Did you realize that before or after the Shadowkeeper fell?”

She felt her heart drop in her chest. Cylva wasn’t even sure how to answer.

“If you really believed in us, then you would’ve told us everything. You know we would’ve helped in any way we could… We might’ve even saved two worlds in the process.”

“I’m…” She struggled to find the words and lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

“...I am.”

Ardbert jerked his head up. “Then come with us!”

Cylva’s eyes widened and she met his gaze. His desperate, maddening gaze. “What?”

“Go with us to the Source! We’ll do this together, like you want to!”

She kept staring at him. Her fingers twitched and she couldn’t find her words, much less her own breath. 

He really believed this would save the First. That it was possible to save them at all. He had hope, however marred as it was. No matter how misplaced it was. He didn’t know how much he might come to regret this decision.

“Ardbert… don’t do this,” Cylva stepped forward and reached out a hand. “Don’t-”

He watched her hand creep closer. She wasn’t going to help, was she? Of course she wasn’t. Of course, she would never.

He took two steps back. His hand was already reaching for his waist, where his weapon of choice waited. 

Cylva didn’t dare move closer. It was impossible to read his movements. Was that really Ardbert? Of course he was on edge, but it felt less and less like him in that body. With that mindset. 

Ardbert who’d always looked on the optimistic end. Who would pledge his axe to help a friend recover what was lost to them so long ago. Followed a friend to the ends of the earth and swore to keep her safe. Came rushing to the aid of someone who thought she was only protecting her friends. Would gladly take the most trying of burdens off someone else’s shoulders if it meant it was even the slightest bit easier to bear. 

Was this really him? Was this the Ardbert that she’d grown to care for as her own family?

He reached down and grabbed the axe with his right hand. He held the knife tight in his left. 

“If you’re so intent to stay out of this, then don’t try to tell me otherwise. Leave us to our devices. We’ll fix this on our own.” 

The axe tumbled down into the grave and stuck in the ground. Ardbert inched closer to the edge of the ditch. 

Cylva stared with baited breath and helpless despair plastered on her face. “Ardbert, please-!”

“You didn’t think twice before siding with the Ascians,” he mumbled. One of his hands was already tugging on the straps of his armor, loosening them. “Whether or not we’re heralded as heroes, it doesn’t matter. You of all people should understand.”

“Ardbert-!”

His chestplate left the softer fabrics exposed. A place of vulnerability that he’d always done well to protect in combat. It was ripe for a painful death if he were not quick in his actions.

He did not act fast. He chose not to.

Before Cylva could so much as gain the courage to step forward and grab his arm, he’d already plunged the sharp end of the knife into his chest. One painful croak as the blade slid through his body. Piercing his lungs and already forcing blood and bile through his mouth. 

Her hands twitched. She wanted to run forward. To pull the knife from his wound and get him to a healer. But the nearest one was already six fulms under. 

The red liquid started to run from the corner of his lips. His mouth tainted with the taste of iron. But he wasn’t dying.

Ardbert looked down at the knife and grit his blood-stained teeth. “Damn this…!” He grabbed the handle of the weapon with both hands and started to move it again.

“STOP IT!” But the elven girl still could not bring herself to move.

The blade dragged down through the armor and his skin altogether, jarring through his body and severing the remaining ties he had to life. He winced and groaned where the blade kept moving through his body, but he did not stop. It was painful. Tear-jerking even, as a few droplets welled at the corners of his eyes. But Ardbert did not stop trying. 

Cylva stared in horror, eyes wide and shaking hands cupping her mouth. She couldn’t act. She couldn’t even speak.

The tear in his chest soaked his armor in blood. His body cried for mercy through all the pain. But Ardbert did not stop pulling on the knife until he’d taken the blade all the way down to his belt. In which he finally lost the strength to keep going.

His face lost color and expression turned vacant. He stood up tall one last time and met Cylva’s terrified and trembling gaze. His blue eyes dull as the skies only grew brighter.

And Ardbert fell. 

Falling felt like an eternity. He was suspended in the air for forever. The sky suddenly got smaller as the edges of the hole eclipsed it from the outside. The wind was gone. The light overhead deafening. 

He banged against the bottom of the grave. But the pain was numb compared to his self-inflicted wound. The world grew quiet and dark. The tunnel above that led to the world was closing. And the last thing he saw was an elven girl staring into his grave, shrieking something that he could no longer hear. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good god what is wrong with me
> 
> YEAH THIS IS UH pretty fucked up and i am DOUBTFUL that if we EVER got this moment as a cutscene, the devs would not (and probably CANNOT because game engine limits) go this hard on the violence. but i can't imagine this was an easy-to-bear moment for Ardbert, considering we know it was him that killed his friends. i can't imagine that it was simple, either. and i thought the plotbit about them being buried by people that they'd known when they were alive was really interesting. i want to believe it was Cylva, because who else would be that close? but who knows, it could've just been other people they knew in life. i have no way of saying for certain and this is just an interpretation. 
> 
> there is another part to this! no idea when i'll be done, but it's basically step two of how they became accustomed to the Source. it'll be a little more light-hearted, not NEARLY as gruesome as this. it will also have a slight divergence from the plot in Heavensward because i thought of something in the middle of writing this that i wanna put in now owo 
> 
> anyways, thank you for the read!!! i will hopefully have the next part up soon! if you liked it, let me know what you think! i'm always looking to improve my writing, so if you noticed any short-comings or have any advice on how to improve, let me know! thank you again for your time and please have a wonderful day!


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